Beautiful Rescue
by Evergreen.C
Summary: [EO] [AU] 'I don't care if you don't want me to help you. I will anyway'
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Beautiful Rescue

**Author: **Evergreen.C

**Spoilers: **None.

**Disclaimer: **Law&Order SVU is not mine and you know it.

**Summary: **"I don't care if you don't want me to help you. I will anyway" EO AU

**A/N: **English is not my first language and this is my first fan fiction. So, it's not going to be the best thing you've ever read. But I'm trying to not make it the worse, so please be nice. Also, I want to say this story is AU and Olivia is still a teenager here and it's not only EO, but it's about how she dealt with the truth about her.

I guess that's it. Hope you all like and leave me reviews (:

**Prologue:**

People don't get it. They whisper between them "How someone with so much could try to do it?" and, then, they shake their heads with that look full of sorrow and morbid curiosity. Those questions are not more hateful than the looks; both remind me of the last December 25 and all I'd like to forget.

My mother surely tried to hide the fact from the supposedly friends and family. Unsuccessfully. One week later and everybody knew of the "tragedy". "No mother deserves something like that" people would say, like they knew everything, when, in fact, they weren't familiar with absolutely anything about what happened behind the red door of our house.

We _were_ a normal family and that definition means nothing. I didn't have a father, but since when a male figure is essential to classify a family as normal or not? We _were_ like any family that would have lunch everyday between noon and one o'clock and would eat breakfast in silence.

That was what I said to the shrink who came to visit me in my hospital room at December 26. She raised an eyebrow in a peculiar way, then arranged her glasses in her nose and affirmed in her little and sweet voice:

"You said 'we _were'_"

Yeah, I said 'we were'.

We were.

We _were_.

Which means… Which means…

"What changed?" she asked, since I obviously couldn't make a sentence after the affirmation of the unknown woman before me, who looked like she wanted to know more about me than I myself knew.

"I don't know" I whispered, looking directly in her brown eyes, so she wouldn't think I was scared of her.

She gave me a indistinguishable smile "Your mother told me you were acting strangely" she told that as if it were significant "She also told me you're asking her about your father more often lately" she completed, with that ridiculous way of someone who blindly believes that is getting anywhere.

"I was curious" I was aware of how numb my voice sounded, but I felt extremely doped by the drugs and didn't have any control about my tone of voice.

The shrink of discrete glasses looked at me earnestly and I almost, _almost_, felt uncomfortable under those big and curious eyes.

"Why did you try to kill yourself, Olivia?"

And here it's the question, finally.

**TBC.**

**A/N:** So, I'm scared about what you are going to think. I don't think I read about anything like that, so you guys will have to trust on what I have planned. As I said, it's EO, but it has no spoiler and it's completely AU.

Reviews are very welcome (:


	2. Chapter 2

**ONE: **

Before someone try to commit suicide, the idea goes through his head innumerable of times. I know it went through mine more than just a couple of times before I finally had the necessary courage to try and do it.

However, it's not just courage that is needed to give that decisive impulse, that crucial impulse that makes you lock yourself in the bathroom and slit, with an intentional slowness, your own wrists. It's not courage; it's fear. A suffocating fear that can immobilize you when the blood is starting to run through your arm and you realize then, and just then, the true dimension of what you're about to do.

What never goes through your head, though, is what can happen if your idea doesn't concretize.

And when you wake up in a hospital bed, looking to a blue ceiling that you'll end up getting used to, you realize the infinity consequences of a single moment when you lost control. Control that you were always proud of having.

"We can't control everything" doctor Mosse – the hospital's shrink – murmured, looking at my eyes in the way she always did. She looked at me attentively, as always, trying to absorb all reactions that I could have had. It bothered me having someone always ready to analyze my behavior. But there was nothing I could do; it was her job to be snooping and she wouldn't let me stop her from doing her work.

"I know" I said, even knowing that all she wanted to hear was about the things I had no capacity to control.

But that I wasn't ready to talk about. There are some things that are not meant to be mentioned, ever. Things you need to swallow and forget 'til their meaning reduces to nothing. Then you can bring them back, exhume them. But, before the right time, they must be kept buried.

"It was the feeling of losing control that made you do what you did?" she asked, carefully. She never said "suicide" or "killed".

"It was it too" I whispered looking at my fingernails poorly taken care of, trying to remember when had been the last time I worried about something so tiny as my fingernails.

The silence followed my last words. It was normal having minutes of quietness during her visits. She wasn't bothered by them and neither was I.

"What else, besides the lack of control, Olivia?" she wanted to know "Desperation, fear…?

I nodded, confirming. There wasn't a reason to deny.

"Fear of what?"

I didn't know how to answer that.

Fear of what…?

…_Of myself. _

"Olivia?" Mousse interrupted my thoughts, calling me with her voice usually so calm "What were you afraid of, Olivia?"

"Don't know"

_Liar_.

"Yes, you do" she said softly, looking to me with a mix of curiosity and compassion. I hated her looks more and more as the seconds went by.

"Gee, doc, you seem to know a lot of things" I said in my better bitch tone "So, since you know so much and are so smart, tell me something: why are you still wasting your so precious time with me when it's clearly obvious that I am not going to tell you a damn thing? Have nothing better to do?"

When you don't know how to break out of a situation you don't wanna face, you just start attacking the enemy. _Sorry, doc, here you're the enemy. _

"No, Olivia, actually I don't" she said simply, not even flinching at my outburst. She was self-controlled, she wasn't surprised by anything.

I would like to see her in **my** shoes.

I sighed and closed my eyes, praying to a God I actually never believed that she would magically disappear. I didn't want to talk anymore. All I wanted to do was grow smaller until the point I vanished. Until the point I was nothing.

"Do you have children, Doc?" I asked, still with my eyes closed, 'cause I couldn't stand the sound of her regular and even breathing.

"Yes, I have a daughter. She is six"

"How she looks like?"

"She actually looks like me" her voice was distant and I could say, without even looking at her, she was smiling "Everybody says she is the spitting image of me. She does have her father's eyes, though"

"She must be cute"

"She is" Pause "Why are you asking this, Olivia?"

I didn't answer her "You know, doc, me and mom have practically nothing in common"

"And that scares you" it wasn't a question.

I swallowed, nervous, feeling my hands shaking a little. I immediately put them under my leg, not wanting her to see what that talk was doing to me.

"Why it would scare me?"

At this point, I half wanted her to go away. I half wanted her to say I wasn't crazy.

"Because-" her voice was gently, as she was talking to a little kid and telling the kid why she shouldn't be sad after finding out Santa Claus doesn't truly exist "Because you are afraid of who your father is; because, if you're not like your mother, you think you have to be like him. And you don't really know him. But, Olivia, you're not who your father is. And you are not who your mom is either. You're Olivia and that is enough. And maybe you have you mom's nose and your dad's eyes – I don't know… But you're a lot more than eyes and nose. You're your own person and it doesn't matter what your genes are"

If you only knew, Doc…

If you only knew…

XXXXXXXXXXXX

There isn't anything as efficient to make people nutty as being in a hospital for more than just a few days.

As the days passed dangerously slow by me, I could feel myself going crazy. The fact I had nothing to do besides waiting for the damn shrink to visit and say a few words that would help no one, especially me, was starting to affect me. I couldn't stand lay in my bed at night, restless, looking directly to that stupid blue ceiling that I already hated.

And, then, I decided. It was an idea that came from nowhere, suddenly, almost knocking me down. But, once in my mind, it wouldn't let me alone.

I didn't have a lot of time to reflect, actually. And, even if I had, I don't think I would have used it in a coherent way. Then, one night, taken by impulse and by the adrenalin running trough my vain, I jumped from the bed, and got dressed. The clothes I had in my room were night clothes or the clothes I was wearing at the day I was brought to the hospital. My blouse had been ripped by the paramedics, for a reason I didn't quite understand. My jeans and my jacket, on the other hand, were fine and washed.

In a hurry, I put my jeans and, on top of my white nightshirt, I put the leather jacket that once had been my mom's. There were blood stains on the inside, but there wasn't, really, time to think about it.

I had to get out of there and there was no time to think about anything else.

Leaving the hospital wasn't as difficult as everyone can imagine. It was in reality pretty easy, because all the nurses and doctors were checking the patients or sleeping. All the hallways I passed were empty, but I walked looking behind my shoulder, anyway.

I was at the street before I could realize. My heart was beating hard, too hard, and I was not sure if it was because of my little adventure or the fear I had of not knowing what I'd do then.

Outside the hospital it was an ordinary night of winter in New York City. Even though I felt as my life was shattering, as I walked trough NY City, everything seemed fine, even great. The snow was the same it had always been and my body shivered the same way it shivered before everything happened. The lighting of the buildings didn't change and the few people that weren't warm in their home passed by me too quickly, 'cause that was New York and, in a big city like it, nobody notices a girl wearing too little clothing in a cold, cold winter.

I walked for hours, feeling the cold at my hands, at my face. The wind made my hair messy and I knew that my face was red from the chilliness. But it felt good. For the first time, something felt good. It was like the coldness of NY City had frozen all the sadness, the disappointment and the hurt.

I reached the Central Park without realizing I was heading to there. My unconscious must have thought it was a good idea going to some place that had once made me feel good.

I sat at a bench and then, and just then, I stopped to think about my mom and the times we had gone there. The times she would teach me how to ice-skating and the times I'd fall and she'd laugh, thinking it was cute that my butt was wet.

Of course those visits to the square had been on those days when everything seemed fine. Those rare days that she had looked to me and not seen those eyes she had probably seen on the worst day of her life. Those rare days she had seemed **my** eyes, and not eyes of a monster. _Eyes of my father._

"It doesn't matter what your genes are" the shrink had said naively, as she knew what she was talking about.

oBut I knew it mattered. A lot. It mattered because I was the daughter of someone who had hurt my mom in the worst way possible; someone who had made her life hell; someone who had humiliate her in so many levels that she would never recover from it. And she only had to take a look at me, at my dark hair, my olive skin and my brown eyes to remember what pain is like. Every day she lives hell again, just by looking at me. So, I guess I can say it does matter at the end.

I didn't become conscious I had started crying silently, the tears slowly wetting my face, making a cold trail down my cheeks, until I felt a hand on my shoulder. A chill spread throughout my body as I looked up to take in the features of the guy who was facing me with worried eyes.

Even being night and dark, I could easily see what was probably the pair of bluest eyes I had ever seen.

"Are you all right?" he asked with a humbling voice and I almost froze just by hearing it. He looked at me as if he knew me, as if it was completely normal to approach a strange in the middle of the night to ask if she was fine.

"Are you all right?" he asked again, taking a seat beside me, his hand leaving my shoulder. I looked at him, but I couldn't say how old he was. Obviously he was older than me, but not so much. He looked as one of those basketball players, or maybe baseball; one of those kinds who have a lot of girls running after him, but only kisses one. Even though he was young, he seemed mature for his age.

"I'm fine" I said and I didn't quite know where the voice had come from. I was still frozen, still not knowing if it was safe to stay there or if I should run. And, if I should run, where should I go? As I didn't know the right answers, I stayed still.

"You don't seem fine" he whispered with brutal earnestness.

"Well, I am" It was a lie, but I didn't have to be honest with some strange guy just because he was handsome.

"People who are fine don't cry in the middle of the night alone" he tilted his head to have a better look at me. I suddenly felt self-conscious, as if remembering just then that my hair was untidy and my face, wet "Anyway," he continued, still looking straight at my eyes, as if searching for something, maybe the reason for my tears "aren't you freezing?"

He didn't give me the chance to answer his question; he was already taking off his jacket and putting it on my trembling shoulders. Taken by surprise, I just whispered a timid "Thank you".

His jacked was warmer than mine and smelled like something sweet, but still manly. Guess he smelled like it.

"You're welcome" he whispered in the same tone I had used, still looking at me inquisitively.

"What?" I said, passing my hand trough my hair, thinking that he could be looking so intensively at me because of my chaotic dark hair.

"Why were you crying?" he asked with awareness.

"I think it's none of your business" I blurted, but I was, in fact, shocked with the interesting he showed.

"Probably not"

"So don't ask"

"Sorry" he said and smiled without showing his teeth. "I think I am just curious"

"Why aren't you at home, anyway?" it was my turn to ask. I noticed he was not a poor kid, 'cause his clothes were nice; no parents who let their children alone in NY City until this hour would buy this kind of clothes.

"I think it's none of your business" he said in the same way I had previously used, and I couldn't help but give him a shy smile.

He let out a small laugh and whispered, his blue eyes shinning in the dark "You're not crying anymore"

"Guess not" I said and I felt myself blushing.

"I'm Elliot, by the way" he offered me a piece of his personality and I thought, _well, he looked like an Elliot._

"I'm Olivia"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

**TBC.**

**A/N:** So, what did you think?

I'm sorry about the wait, guys! But my teachers don't seem to think we have other things to do besides the damn homework. I'll try to update as soon as I can, but I can't really make promises. I'm in my last year of school, so it's kinda hard to find time to write, unfortunately.

Thank you for the lovely reviews. You have no idea how happy they made me (:


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